When Nothing Else Would Work
by Waiting To Be Broken
Summary: He was stupid, so very stupid. And hard... god, he was hard. Just from a kiss. His first kiss, given to him by his big brother. Which reminded him of just how stupid he was for thinking that this will work. Happy Winchester Day!


When Nothing Else Would Work

Dean was in the kitchen, preparing some breakfast for his brother before he had to leave for work, when he heard Sam's voice.

"D...Dean?" It was a low, hesitant voice with a hint of fright that made him drop everything and turn around.

"What's up, Sa..." The words died in his throat the moment he laid eyes on the other boy. His brother, his freaking brother, had put on make-up. Mascara, blush, lipstick- you name it, Sam got it on his face. And on his hair, why, though, he couldn't know. It was always so silky and so beau... and Dean was so not thinking about it right now when he had a gender-confused brother to deal with. One that weirdly enough turned him on a little.

"Something you want to tell me, bro?" he teased but his whole demeanour changed when he saw the way Sammy was wringing his hands and biting his lips nerveously. He rushed toward him and clasped his hands in his own to still them, bending slightly so their eyes could meet. "What's wrong, Sammy? Did someone do something to you? Did they do this?" Unconsciosly, he twisted a stand of the other's hair around his finger to test how it felt with the what looked like gel on it. It was as soft as before, if a little sticky.

Sam didn't reply and Dean was just thinking that he would have to go and find out on his own when the other whispered shakily, "Can you... kiss me? I... Katie said that you wouldn't mind if I looked like this. It would be like kissing a girl, she said. S-she even gave me her perfume"

If Sam had grown another head and started speaking Latin, Dean wouldn't have stared at him like that. He opened and closed his mouth a few times like a fish out of water before he managed to think of some sort of reply

"Why would you want me to kiss you?" He hadn't intended it to sound so gruff but with his voice suddenly husky it was as if he was mad with the kid and it shouldn't have been surprising that Sam jumped and tried to move backward. He wasn't lucky, though, because even if they were almost the same height the older one was stronger. When he realized that there was no getting out of the situation he explained quickly, his cheeks getting even redder than before

"Jack and Katie were talking about their first kiss and they asked me about mine and I told them that I haven't got it because of the way we live. They wanted to know if I liked someone, because your first kiss should be with someone like that, and I thought about you. I love you so it should be okay, right? You kissing me, I mean"

Dean was about to set his brother straight, the refusal was on the tip of his tongue, when he froze. Was he really about to say to the kid that he didn't love him? Because that was exactly what Sam would think if he said no. And he just couldn't do it, couldn't bear to see the dejected look on his face. He quickly made up his mind and nodded his head.

Somebody else wouldn't have seen the way Sam's eyes lit up and how the corners of his mouth curved up but Dean wasn't anybody and that change made him feel happy, made him forget for a moment that what he was about to do was sinful and against the law of the nature.

He dipped down and kissed Sam gently. The boy just pressed their lips together and Dean was about to sigh in relief- maybe he had taken it all the wrong way, when his little brother opened his mouth and his tongue entered Dean's mouth, who had opened it on an instinct, and poked the older one. Electricity washed through Dean's body, electricity and lust and it made him wrap his arms around the other's waist and drag him closer. Their bodies collided, every centimetre of them was touching. Dean could feel his brother's erection, could taste the lipstick, the typical girly perfume penetrated his nostrils.

It was all wrong. Too wrong! And it had nothing to do with the fact that he was kissing his own brother. He whimpered at the realization, his hands squeezing painfully his brother's sides. Dean broke the kiss and pushed Sam away. The boy blinked his eyes open and stared at him confusedly and the other tried to ignore the little pang of guilt that paralysed his body and the not so little hint of arousal when he saw the way the hazel eyes had cloded with lust.

„Go take a shower," he said through clenched teeth, his hands curled in fists, if only to prevent them from reaching out and gripping that velvet hair and then using it to pull Sam closer and... He cleared his throat and repeated his command, this time softer, when he saw he got no reaction from the other one, „Go take a shower, Sammy."

Sam gave him a blank stare, one that Dean had thought he could never pull- the boy's eyes were too expressive, before he nodded and nearly ran toward the bathroom, leaving his brother to stare after him.

Sam turned his face toward the spray of water, letting it clean away all the make-up and tears. He didn't use his hands, he was too disgusted with himself to touch the source of that self-hatred. The look on Dean's face appeared behind his eyelids again and new tears prickled in his eyes from the memory. Stupid, stupid! How could he be such an idiot? He rested his forehead against the warm tiles and even banged his head a few times.

He shouldn't have done that. He knew Dean would never say no, that he wouldn't suspect the truth. Most probably his brother thought that Sam didn't know what he was saying and was too young to know about 'that kind of love'. But Sam did... all too well.

He knew about that pang in your chest everytime you saw the person you loved hurt, he had discovered the need to do everything in his powers to make them happy and he had realized that their happiness was his happiness too, even if he wasn't the cause of it. He was aware of the fact that you couldn't as much as think of that person without feeling that tingly feeling in your privates.

The last thing he could feel right now and his cheeks reddened. He knew he was alone, he had heard the closing of the entrance door a few moments after he had entered the bathroom. One of his hands slid down his body, from his neck, down his nipples and rested on his hips, half-hugging him, just like Dean would in his dream. But as soon as he touched that place, pain shook his body and a whine broke from his lips. That was where Dean had squeezed him when he had moaned. And he had tried to keep so quiet to not disturb Dean but it had been too good. Like he had imagined it and better. And now he was going to pay dearly for it.

The water turned cold and Sam shook. He wanted to stay like this until the water washed all the shame and guilt, but he heard Dean's voice. „Don't stay under the water, Sammy, you would catch a cold," it said with such a concern and gentleness. Sam smiled sadly as he turned off the water and wondered if he would ever hear it again.

Later on, after he dried himself, he went to the bedroom and curled on Dean's bed. They had been here for half a month- enough time for his brother's scent to soak in the sheets and the pillow. He rested his back on the headboard, placed the pillow on his chest and imagined that it wouldn't be wrong to lay in Dean's bed, that there was an alternative reality in which that was exactly his place.

That was how Dean found him when he got back from work- on his bed, holding the pillow like his favourite teddy-bear from his childhood with tears down his sides. His gaze was lost in the space and it looked like the younger one hadn't realized that his brother was back. Not that Dean had any time to analyse the situation. The only thought in his mind was that his Sammy was hurt and he had to do something. He sat on the bed and shook his hand lightly.  
>„Sammy? What's wrong?" he asked tentatively, as if talking to a scared little child. And in his head right now that was what Sam was.<p>

Sam stared at him with bleary, unfocused eyes as if that was the first time he was seeing him before he brought his hand up and rubbed his eyes while shaking his head. He opened his mouth, then thought for a second, closed it and moved his gaze somewhere outside the window.

Dean waited for a while for his brother to pay him some attention before he whispered, „It was wrong, Sam."

His brother nodded his head but didn't look at him. Slowly, he let go of the pillow and then tried to move out of the bed, but Dean reached out and stopped him by curling his fingers around his biceps and draging him to the bed.

„Listen to me!" he snapped. He wanted to say something very serious, something which he had concluded after the day he'd spent in the garage, and he wasn't going to put up with Sam's behivior. Then again there was the feeling that if he didn't say it now he wouldn't be able to do it ever again.

„I don't want to," replied Sam in a childish manner as he tried to tug his arm out of his brother's grasp. He was scared of that serious expression the other had and knew what would follow, could almost hear the hurtful words and the 'never again's. „I wouldn't ask you again, I would forget it just please let's not talk about it."

Dean nodded, all of his resolvance disappearing into thin air. If it weren't for the next words, spoken so quietly that he would have missed them, he would have gave up completely and never brought it up again. Words that even Sam didn't realize he had said

„I don't want to hear you say it was wrong anymore."

„But it was wrong!" Dean almost shooted before he could think and Sam twitched and took a shaky breath. He started blinking rapidly to chase away the tears threating to fall but he was fighting an empty battle. One tear slid down his cheek and he wiped it quickly, but Dean had already seen it. He took his brother's chin and turned it his way. Sam looked at him with fear and panic, but he tried not to think about it. What he was about to do was going to change that- to happiness or disgust he couldn't know, but he was going to take that risk.

Dean brought his other hand and cupped Sam's neck, dragging him closer and kissing him. It was a far less innocent kiss than their first- Dean immediately plunged his tongue in Sam's open from the shock mouth and tried to urge his brother's tongue to play with his own, but the other was way too out of it to reciprocate in any way and when he finally realized what was happening his first instinct was to push away his brother.

„Don't play with me!" he nearly shouted. „You don't like it, I get it, but don't..."

„I like it. See, here is your mistake, Sammy, you didn't let me finish." Dean tried to kiss him again but Sam ducked it and the older's lips met the soft skin on his cheeks instead. It wasn't like Dean minded. „It was wrong and disgusting because it wasn't you. I didn't taste you, but some kind of cheep lipstic, not your scent surrounded me- some flowerly perfume did. Having you here with me, kissing your soft lips and breathing in your, your, scent... it's perfect, baby boy."

It was chick-flick, Dean was perfectly aware, but if that was what it would take for him to have an incestuous, passionate and full with steamy sex and then cu... laying (because men didn't cuddle) on the sofa relationship with the person he had realized he had loved for years then so be it. Also, he wanted to show to Sam how serious he was with the whole thing.

Not that Sam took it that way. „Who are you and where is my brother?" he asked before reaching out to the bedside table and taking the silver knife, after all a good 60 percent of the supernatural creatures could be hurt or killed with it.

„So what, I say a few good words and suddenly I'm the worst of the worst?" laughed Dean and then to prove his point that there was nothing wrong with him touched the blade of the knife. „So now would you come, and I mean this in every way possible, for another make-out session or you would waste our time by making me drink holy water."

„I would have considered it if you hadn't returned to your old, perverted self." Sam smiled teasing and lowered the knife before dropping it completely and returning to the bed. For a few minutes they laid together, neither of them saying anything and just bathing in the other's warmth.

„You are sure, though, right? You know what this mean- this kind of love?" Dean asked suddenly, concern replacing his usual cocky tone.

„Of course I do. I would have asked Dad if I didn't," Sam replied with a smile and lifted himself a little to kiss his brother's neck.

They both laughed at that, even if on Dean's part it was mostly because he was ticklish on the neck, then fell quiet again. But it wasn't the bad kind of silent, it was that kind of a moment that you are way too happy to form words and you are content enough to just have that one person beside you.

And above you.

But that is another story.

**A/N I'm not really sure if it should be Hurt/Comfort but Humor was too much (even if for me there are a few funny parts...) Anyway, thanks for reading and I hope you liked it.**


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